Ghim's Gift
by Oboe-Wan
Summary: Beginning around episode 8 of the OAV, Slayn is drawn to comfort and befriend the girl Ghim died to save.
1. Default Chapter

[I do not have any rights to the plot, places, or characters of "Record of Lodoss War".  I just like to write about them.

This fic begins in the midst of episode 8, "Requiem for Warriors," of the OAV series – just after Ghim's death, but before they move on, even before the scene in which they say their last goodbyes at the end of episode 8.]

It was remarkable how much of her own appearance Karla had managed to impart to her host.  Slayn wondered if this had been a conscious effort - a spell of some sort – or merely the sheer force of the Grey Witch's presence.  Karla _had_ been beautiful – but cold, and hard, and her face had seemed sharp and angular.  That same face now wore such softness, gentleness, and sweetness.  It was the same face, and yet not…

Leylia was much more beautiful than Karla had been.

There were silent tears running down her pale face, and she had her arms tightly wrapped around herself in a very vulnerable gesture, one hand tightly closed around the intricately carved wooden comb.

Parn had been crying too.  Slayn had seen the tears mingling with the sweat coursing in little rivulets through the grime on his face.  Deedlit and Etoh had cried on each other, and Parn had dug.  They'd all helped him, eventually.  Etoh's once pristine clerical robes were muddy, and Karla's silken gown that Leylia still wore was torn and dirty.  Parn had done the bulk of the work himself, though. He'd thrown himself into the task with characteristic abandon.  Etoh, Slayn, and Deedlit's hands were willing, but not quite as able as Parn's.  Wood was nowhere to be found.  The loss of a companion had hit them all hard, and perhaps Wood's way of mourning involved solitude, just as Parn's involved a lot of mind-numbing manual labor and sweat.

Slayn was a little disturbed at his own dry-eyed response to his old friend's death.  He _wanted_ to weep for Ghim, but…couldn't.  Ghim had freely traded himself for the pale, dark-haired maiden who stood so silently before them.  How could Slayn regret that choice if Ghim did not?

Parn had fallen to his knees in a wordless genuflection when he placed the last stone on Ghim's grave, and Deedlit had hesistantly approached, moving to put her hand on his shoulder, but stopping short.  They'd stood thus for a while, until Deedlit fell to her knees beside him.  She murmured something like "Let him rest…" and helped the young warrior to his feet.  Even Parn would be tired and sore after his exertions today.  Etoh finished murmuring his prayers, smiled through his tears, and followed the knight and the Elf-maid down the hill to the grove where they'd left their belongings.  Slayn took a few steps after him, then turned and waited.

"Leylia?"

The girl started, hearing her name, but didn't take her eyes from Ghim's grave.

"Leylia, will you come with us, please?" Slayn said gently, walking back to stand beside her.

She was trembling, and she bit down hard on her lower lip.  Slayn softly laid his hand on her shoulder, his expression grave.

It turned bewildered when, with a strangled sob, Leylia turned to him, buried her face in his shoulder, and wept.  After the initial shock, Slayn found himself putting his arms around her and gently stroking her hair.  Despite the gaping ache in his soul, Slayn's eyes were dry and clear.  But Leylia could weep for both of them.


	2. 

Slayn half-led, half-carried the exhausted young woman down to the camp that Deedlit and Etoh were setting up.  Parn had seated himself near a tree, and stayed there, looking dazed.  He looked up at Slayn's approach, and it seemed to dawn on him that the others were doing all the work.  He tried to struggle to his feet, but Deedlit firmly pushed him back down.

"Rest," she instructed, "or else."

Parn obeyed, wincing at the cascade of muscle pains caused by his movement.

Slayn gently lowered Leylia to the ground at the base of a tree near Parn's.  He turned to help with the camp, glancing back over his shoulder at the girl. Almost immediately, Leylia began yanking and pulling at the jewelry adorning her hands and arms, having no patience in her exhaustion with their intricate clasps.  Slayn knelt back down beside her.

"Can I help?" he asked quietly, putting his hands on hers to keep her from hurting herself.  She resisted, not meeting his eyes.  "Please."  Biting her lower lip, she held out her hands in a simple, childlike gesture.  Slayn carefully pulled the ornate rings from her long white fingers and unclasped the bracelets that circled her wrists and the bands around her arms.  He reached up through her veil of raven hair to unhook the necklaces and chokers, then turned his attention to the beads and pearls twined into her tresses, and the baubles dangling from her earlobes.  Leylia followed his movements with wide eyes.  Karla's jewels formed a formidable pile, catching the flickers of light produced by the fire Etoh was building.

Deedlit, for once not protesting the role of "serving-wench," handed Slayn provisions for two, then turned her attention to Parn.

"I'm not hungry, Deed," he murmured dully, staring at the fire. 

"Parn!" Deedlit said shrilly, her eyes filling up.  "I don't care if you're not hungry!  Starving isn't helping anyone, so _eat_, dammit!"

Blinking, Parn meekly accepted his dinner.  Deedlit plunked herself down beside him, dashed her tears from her eyes, and bit savagely into her biscuit.

Looking intimidated, Leylia picked up her food and began eating mechanically.  Slayn smiled at her, and reached for his own food.

"I…I thank you for all your help, sir," Leylia said in a voice which was quiet, but firm, as she stared at her food.

"You're most welcome, Leylia," Slayn replied in a reassuring tone.  "We'll be taking you as quickly as possible to the temple of Marfa and your mother Neese."

She looked up at him, eyes full of gratitude.  "I feel at a disadvantage.  You all know so much about me – my name, my home, my mother.  Through…" she paused to close her eyes and swallow… "through Ghim, I would presume."

Slayn nodded.  "He was a dear friend to all of us, and he spoke of you often."

"But I do not know any of your names," she concluded, prompting introductions.

Slayn smiled.  "Forgive me.  My manners have been lax.  I'm sure everyone will properly introduce themselves when we have a bit more energy, but…  The young warrior is Parn.  He wishes to become a knight of of Valis, like his father.   The novice priest of Falis is Etoh, Parn's best friend from childhood.  Our absent friend is a thief by the name of Woodchuck, poor man.  We tend to call him Wood."  He wasn't ready to concern the others yet, but Slayn was worried about Wood.  He was afraid….   "And the Elf…," he continued, not letting his preoccupation show,  "well, she's called Deedlit, and she comes from the Forest of No Return.  Beyond that, she's a bit of an enigma." Slayn paused for an instant, then extended his hand.  "And my name is Slayn.  I'm a scholar, something of a sorcerer," his smile faded, "and an old friend of Ghim's."

Leylia accepted his hand, and her grip was warm and firm.

They finished their dinner in silence, listening to Etoh's murmured prayer of thanksgiving as he cleaned off the dishes and tended the fire.  Parn had fallen asleep leaning against the tree trunk and his head had drooped (with help, no doubt) to Deedlit's shoulder.  She was absently stroking his dark hair and humming some elvish song.

Slayn stood, extracted a blanket from his pack, and handed it to Leylia.  She accepted it with a quiet "thank you."  Nodding, he turned to find a place to sleep by the fire, since he no longer had a blanket.

"Wait," Leylia called, with a note of suppressed desperation in her voice.  "I've…I've been alone so long…a tenant in my own mind and my own body.  Would…would you stay with me?  Just until I fall asleep?" she asked shyly, and wistfully.

Slayn replied by sitting again at her side.

Leylia wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and curled up on her side.  Slayn leaned against the tree trunk and looked up at the stars.  When he looked back down at her, she was crying.

These weren't the anguished tears she'd shed for Ghim, but softer, cleansing ones – tears for herself, and for the years she'd lost.  And for the second time, Slayn opened his arms to her, and when she'd wept out her tears onto his shoulder, she fell asleep in them.

[I realized, after I wrote all this, that there was a slight problem.  At the end of episode eight, Leylia is still wearing Karla's jewelry.  If a night had passed, which I assumed it had, I just couldn't imagine her leaving it all on.  Oh well?]


End file.
